There's a house on the street
There's a room in the house
There's a bed on the room
There's a man on the bed
He has a mind that flies
A soul that blows
A heart that loves
and a force that cries
An idea on his mind
a struggle in his head
the words that he can't find
to express when he'll be dead.
There's a poet in the bed
with the spirit of a child
a spirit driving wild
the end waits just ahead.